


Haunting Misconceptions

by Hokuto



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, Canon-Typical Malarkey, Gen, Haunting, Past Relationship(s), Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/pseuds/Hokuto
Summary: Tex is bored of haunting Blood Gulch and comes up with something to pass the time.





	Haunting Misconceptions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aryashi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryashi/gifts).



> Set some nebulous time in season 2 while the robot bodies are being built.
> 
> Happy (slightly belated) holidays, Aryashi! I hope you enjoy this. ♥

"Think we could get them to make out?"

Church didn't jump because that was the kind of shit that just didn't work without legs or a body, but if he'd still had a life, that would have taken a year or five off it. "Fuck, Tex! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I wasn't sneaking," Tex said, and he knew, just _knew_ that behind her ghostly visor, she was wearing that wide, off-center grin that always made him want to kick her in the ankles but also maybe kiss her. If she wouldn't give him a noogie for it. "What kind of soldier lets someone get this close without noticing them, anyway?"

"A terrible one, I guess. I'm dead. Who gives a shit? And who are you talking about?"

"You know, those two Red Team guys. The orange one and the nerdy one. They're always hanging out together and talking about stupid stuff."

"Oh, yeah, those two. Wait, what? Why make them make out? You haven't been haunting Tucker and his weird gossip theories, have you?"

"Maybe a little." Tex shrugged. "Anyway, I've been watching the two of them more, just for a change of pace. I think there really might be something there. I mean, they're always together. Talking about all kinds of stuff."

"So? Who the fuck else are they going to hang out with in this goddamn canyon? They're just friends." And because no one could watch Red Team for more than five minutes without noticing the obvious, Church added, "Besides, the only thing that maroon guy knows how to kiss is his CO's ass."

"Want to bet?"

Something was definitely up. "No. That's fucking weird. Since when are you into that kind of thing?"

"Hey, it gets slow waiting for the sergeant to finish building those new robot bodies. A girl's got to find her own fun. It'd be something to see, anyway - whether love can bloom on a battlefield. Like with those guys in that game."

"Still no. What would we even bet with? The afterlife's not exactly a cash-based economy." Despite his efforts.

"Oh, there's always something," Tex said, and he could hear that grin in her voice again. Fuck, sometimes he hated that they'd broken up. Except for all the times he was reminded that it had been for the best. Although he wished he could remember exactly why and how they'd broken up; it was always - fuzzy. Vague. And he wasn't totally sure he remembered the bits he did know the same way every time.

"If you're going to suggest sex, one, fuck no, we dumped each other, and two, the afterlife also isn't real heavy on bodies and stuff. Like, how would that even work?"

"You have no imagination. Fine, have it your way." Tex started to fade out. "Guess I'm on my own..."

"Tex? What are you going to do? Tex? Tex! ... goddamnit."

Suddenly, he had such a bad feeling about what she was up to.

* * *

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You ever get this feeling like we're being - watched?"

Grif did a quick Sarge check of the base's top before saying, "Well, we're on watch right now, so -"

"No, stupid, I know that. I meant more like - doesn't it ever feel like someone is watching us?"

"We do have a direct sightline to Blue Base, so yeah, they have a sightline to us, too. And a sniper rifle so they can actually see us." Grif sighed. "Fuck, I wish we had a sniper rifle. That's my kind of weapon. I can't believe Sarge traded it for a third shotgun. Three shotguns! He only has two hands! And it takes two hands to shoot one of them, anyway! What's he going to do with three shotguns?"

"If one of them jams, I guess he can just - wait. That's not the point! Also, stop talking about Sarge like that. And it's not just when we're out here. It's all the time. In the mess, in my room, even - um - even in the shower..."

"In the _shower_? Are you sure that's not just Donut?"

"It's not Donut! He promised he'd stop! And how could it be Donut, dumbass? He's still a prisoner at Blue Base. There's no way he can stare at anyone in the shower over here." Simmons inched closer to Grif and lowered his voice. "You know what I think? I think this place might be haunted."

"What, the base?"

"Not just the base. The whole canyon."

"That's ridiculous. Who would haunt this place? It's not like anyone's - actually - uh..." Grif's voice faltered. "Oh, shit. The Blue guy. And the mean chick."

"Exactly! They're haunting us, and I think they're pissed. They want revenge."

"On us? What did we do? The one guy got killed by their own tank, and Donut killed the chick."

"Well, yeah, but we're still Reds. We're kind of - all at fault? Or maybe they're so far gone in their rage and desire for revenge that they can't tell which of us is which, and they're just going to go after all of us." Simmons shivered. "I swear, I can feel something watching us right now..."

Grif looked around the top of the base again, considering the cloudless sky, the dust around the base, the concrete beneath their feet; then he said, "Bullshit. We're not being haunted, you're just fucking paranoid."

"I am not! Haven't you noticed it? Can't you feel their otherworldly eyes on you?"

"No. Also, 'otherworldly eyes'? Not exactly the next Stephen King, are you."

"Shut up. Look, I'll prove it to you. Come shower with me."

" _Dude_."

"Not like that!" Wow, Grif could practically hear Simmons blushing. Amazing. And kind of adorable. "I just meant - let's go check out the showers. I definitely feel it a lot there. Maybe you'll notice it, too. Come on."

"Wait. I don't mind, but you actually want to slack off work? Are you sick? Or high?"

"I don't think I can get sick anymore. Enhanced cyborg immune system or something. Anyway, this is important. It's a matter of base security! We might have to do an exorcism."

Grif hesitated. It was total nonsense, he was pretty sure, but - he _had_ had that feeling once or twice, hadn't he? Like there were unseen eyes on him, tracking whatever he did; sometimes the hint of a voice in the static of the radios that didn't sound like the rest of the guys. And doing an exorcism might be kind of like work, but it would be different work from the usual army crap, at least. Maybe sort of fun? He'd watched a bunch of horror movies, he knew how they went. Basically. And the novelty of Simmons being willing to skip part of a watch - well, he couldn't pass up a chance to take advantage of that. "Okay. Sure. Let's do it. But if Sarge catches us, I'm telling him it was your idea. Because it is."

"Sure," Simmons said, sounding relieved. He was serious about this, huh? That was also kind of cute, since he was such a science and logic nerd the rest of the time.

As soon as they hit the bathroom, Grif felt it. Which was also ridiculous, because he was in full fucking armor and shouldn't have felt a thing, but he would swear the temperature had dropped like five degrees when he went through the door. That couldn't be right. Maybe Simmons was on to - no, wait. His helmet's temperature readout had also gone down by five degrees. "Very funny, Simmons," he said, trying to suppress a shiver. "Sneaking down here and turning the thermostat down before dragging me on a wild goose chase when we could be relaxing. Dick move, dude."

"I didn't do it! You've been with me all day, you _know_ I didn't have time!"

Shit, that was true. And like Simmons had pointed out earlier, it couldn't have been Donut. Or Lopez. And Sarge wouldn't - well, no, it was exactly the kind of stupid shit Sarge would pull on them in the name of "toughening you up" or something, but he was way too busy building robots to do it at the moment.

Fuck. He hoped Simmons hadn't noticed him edging closer, as if he'd somehow be able to get warmer or safer by cozying up to Simmons when they were both in armor.

He looked around the bathroom, wishing he could ignore the prickle of _eyes on you_ intuition that was raising hairs on his arms. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary - yet. And suddenly, he didn't want to stick around and find out if there was something out of the ordinary after all. Like bats. Oh, it would be just his luck to get haunted by bats. "Okay. We checked it out. Nothing wrong here besides some asshole messing with the thermostat. Let's go do our duty or whatever."

"But what about -"

 _Thunk. Thunk_ , and hot water splashed into the nearest sink, steaming in the cool air.

They both jumped a fucking mile and ended up hanging on to each other's arms like a pair of scaredy-cat teenagers at a carnival haunted house. Grif yanked his left arm free almost as fast as Simmons snatched back his right arm. "I didn't do that," Grif said.

"I know you didn't. I could see you not doing it! Nobody did it! We're being haunted and evil Blue ghosts are going to eat us alive!"

"I'm uninviting you from my next movie night. You get spooked way too easily."

"Yeah, that's real convincing from the guy who was just clinging to me like - did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It sounded like the - door just - uh..."

They turned around with the leaden, heart-pounding slowness of futile running in nightmares, and the door had closed behind them.

"So - do you believe me now?" Simmons said, his voice squeaking.

"Dude, not the time. We're about to be eaten by ghosts!" If only he had salt on him. Or a cross. No, that was vampires. If only he'd realized that he could more truly fulfill his need to be lazy by staying on watch than by going on a ghost-hunting expedition. How could he have known? If he lived through this, he was never listening to Simmons again. Maybe he would - listen to Sarge instead? Even in his own head, that sounded weird.

"I told you so!"

"Yeah, but you also asked me to come down here! It was your idea! This is your fault!" Something was banging on the door. Oh God, they were so dead. So incredibly, messily dead.

"I - I guess so. I'm sorry, Grif."

One of the showers kicked on, clouds of steam billowing through the room, and somewhere in the thin, constant crackle of radio static, Grif thought he heard a distant voice say, "Huh. Maybe you're on to something. This is kind of fun." He had trouble paying much attention to that, though, because Simmons had just said _what_. "Did you just apologize? To me?"

"Well, yes." Simmons' squeaky-ass voice cracked. "I - I didn't meant for this to happen, Grif. I don't want y- us to die! I'm sorry!"

Oh, Simmons. He was a nerd even in the face of impending steamy, hungry-ghost death. "I guess - I'm sorry, too," Grif said.

"Get another one going!" a new, different far-away voice hissed. "They're so close!"

"Sorry I ever -"

_Crack!_

"What in the name of good gravy biscuits are you two idiots doing?" Sarge demanded through the wreckage of the bathroom door. "You're supposed to be on watch! And I come down here to get a spare bucket and what do I find? The two of you canoodling in the shower!"

Grif sighed, and also moved a couple of feet further away from Simmons. "First of all, canoodling? Seriously, Sarge? Second of all -"

"I have never been so disappointed in you in my life, Simmons! Grif - no, this is about what I expect from you. Dereliction of duty! Dragging poor Simmons into your insubordination! And someone turn that water off! Wasting all our precious fluids - that's low, Grif. Even for you!"

"Sarge, it wasn't me! I didn't even want to come down here. It was Simmons's idea. There's -"

"And trying to throw Simmons under the bus, too! Why, I ought to -"

"Sir, actually, it really was my idea."

"Simmons, you hush. I'm telling Grif off right now. Where was I? Right! Throwing your fellow loyal soldier under the bus -"

* * *

Church hauled the shower's handle back to the off position - fuck, it was rusty; lazy Reds couldn't even take decent care of their own base - and said, "Well, that was a fucking bust."

"It was worth a shot." Tex twisted the sink's tap off, vanished, and rematerialized next to Church, still watching the sergeant yell at the orange guy. Pretty unfairly, in Church's opinion. "And hey, this is kind of fun to watch, too."

"You aren't disappointed? I mean, you lost the bet, and I know how much you hate losing."

"What bet? We never actually settled on the stakes. Nothing for me to lose."

"But you wanted -"

"I got what I wanted. Some actual entertainment out of being dead." Oh, she was definitely smirking. She was - so hot when she smirked. Even in full armor. "And I showed you that there's more you can do as a ghost around here than you thought."

"I - uh - huh. I guess you did. Sort of."

"So." She stepped closer. "Now that you know - want to make another bet? Throw in something worth betting for?"

"Maybe," Church said, because agreeing to anything with Tex without hammering out the details first was a recipe for going broke and broken-hearted. "What do you have in mind now? Because if it's trying to get these two to kiss again, I gotta say, I think that's a lost cause for at least, like, a week."

"Nah. Not that. I was thinking - something else. Something like - hmm..." She stretched out one arm, and curious, Church couldn't help leaning closer to her, eager to hear what she'd come up with.

And that was how Church learned that ghost or no ghost, armor or no armor, Tex could still give a hell of a noogie.


End file.
